


how my love it spins me 'round

by ohmyloki



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: First Dates, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3967027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyloki/pseuds/ohmyloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon confesses his sins. Kieren needs to decide what to do next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how my love it spins me 'round

**Author's Note:**

> I actually started this fic back in October. It was my way of organizing my thoughts and trying to find a way, _any_ way, I could see Simon and Kieren actually getting some kind of 'happy ending' once everything inevitably comes to light. I stumbled across it in my WIP folder the other day, saw how far I had gotten and figured I might as well finish it up. 
> 
> Not sure how many of you are out there since the news of cancelation hit, but for those of you who are still shipping away, here's my take on post season 2.
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing [exiled-duke-of-milan](http://exiled-duke-of-milan.tumblr.com). That being said, I don't always listen to the advice I'm given. Any and all mistakes are purely mine.

Doctor Russo does an exam on Kieren, but there isn't much to be done for the after effects of Blue Oblivion.

“Plenty of rest and make sure you get your next dose of neurotryptoline on schedule,” he says. It’s the only medical advice he can offer.

The room goes silent as Kieren puts his shirt back on, only the sound of papers being shuffled as Doctor Russo clearly prepares to leave.

“If you have any problems, of course, let Shirley or I know,” he adds.

It’s clearly a dismissal, his attention is down the hall where Amy--where Amy is.

“What about Simon?” Kieren asks.

He feels two sets of eyes land on him as he sits next to the man in question. Doctor Russo looks at Simon and then back to Kieren, confused.

“Pearl shot him,” Kieren says.

For all that he wasn’t fidgeting before, Kieren can still feel Simon freeze next to him as the attention in the room shifts.

“Right,” Russo says. He’s silent for a moment, thinking, his eyes flickering towards the door before he continues. “Well. Obviously there won’t be much concern regarding infection or, well, anything like that. But... it’d still probably be best to take a look and close it up.”

There’s something in his tone that itches at Kieren’s brain but before he can ask the unformed questions. Russo beckons Simon to the exam table. A moment passes where Kieren thinks Simon is going to refuse, but he seems to collect himself before standing up stiffly and walking over.

An unusual expression overcomes Simon’s face as Kieren watches him remove his jacket slowly. Despite the already ashen hue of Simon’s face, Kieren thinks that he can almost see it further drain of color. As it stands, the expression currently residing there is one of immense discomfort. Kieren pulls his sweatshirt on over his undershirt as Simon divests himself of his tie and button-down. He sees Simon’s fingers pause over the buttons of his shirt.

He glances up at Kieren, who returns the gaze with a quizzical look, before looking back down and sliding the buttons through the holes. No undershirt, Kieren notices, and laments that his first time seeing Simon half-naked is here. In a perfect world it would be somewhere else. Anywhere besides underneath the harsh fluorescent lights of an exam room and the clinical gaze of a doctor.

A doctor who, once Simon lets the shirt fall onto the table behind him, lets out a sharp gasp in the otherwise quiet room.

Kieren moves to stand, to cross to Simon and see what has the doctor so surprised, but Simon catches his eyes again and the look he gives stops Kieren short. He pleads silently with Kieren, his eyes imploring him to stay where he is.

Doctor Russo glances up at Kieren before looking at Simon’s back again, further down than where the bullet hole should be. He clears his throat and silently walks to the cabinet to retrieve a few supplies. Curiosity is eating away at Kieren, but he stays motionless.

Time passes in tense silence as Russo uses a pair of forceps to retrieve the bullet still lodged in Simon’s shoulder and then carefully wash the wound. Simon’s fists clench into the fabric covering his thighs as the wound is stitched closed.

“All good, then,” Russo announces as he moves back and takes off the latex gloves. It’s a pretense which Kieren would almost find amusing if Russo hadn’t looked so concerned about taking care of the wound properly.

Simon shrugs his shirt back on as quick as he can. Once his back is covered, Kieren can see the tension drain out of the shape of his shoulders and Kieren himself finally feels like the weight holding him to the chair has lifted.

Unhindered, Kieren stands and walks the handful of steps to where Simon is buttoning up his shirt. He lifts Simon’s jacket from where it lay on the table, ready to hand it to him, but his finger catches the rough edges of the hole and Kieren can’t help but turn the fabric over in his hand to examine it.

It’s so small, Kieren thinks. His pinky barely fits through it to the first knuckle. Looking at it, Kieren feels his unbeating heart freeze in his chest. How could something so small be so significant? How close _had_ he come to death today? Not the living death that he’s experiencing, but real and complete non-existence?

If Simon had been a fraction of a second slower, if he had misjudged his step, his timing, anything--Kieren Walker would have ceased to exist.

And then the thought strikes him, if Simon had misjudged, if Pearl had aimed a little higher, _two_ of Kieren’s friends would be laying in that cold, dark room down the hall. The only two people in his entire world who accept him as he is, who make him feel like he isn’t wrong. (His family tries, bless them, but the fear he catches in their eyes before they manage to cover it up speaks volumes on how far they’ve yet to go. And that was _before_ the threat of being put back into Norfolk had come up and everything had started to devolve.)

But Amy and Simon aren’t afraid of Kieren. And when Simon pushes, it’s because he wants Kieren to be proud of who he is, to be unashamed and unapologetic for being Kieren Walker. Simon, who waltzed into Kieren’s life and turned his world upside down, who stares at Kieren like he’s the most precious being to walk the earth. Simon, who had only hours ago jumped in front of the barrel of a gun pointed at Kieren’s head and taken the bullet meant for him. Simon, who could have died just as easily as Kieren out in that graveyard.

There are so many thoughts rolling around, tangled and messy, in Kieren’s head that he can’t begin to sort them out in any fashion. He knows someday, someday soon, he’ll have to figure out what it all means to him, but he can’t do that right now. Not yet. Not when Amy--not when there are other things to be sorted first. Things that are more important than Kieren’s existential crisis.

You’d never know that by looking at Simon, though. He watches as Kieren examines the bullet hole with rapt attention. As if whatever Kieren is thinking at that moment is the most important thing in the world.

Kieren, uncomfortable with, well, everything at the moment, clears his throat and hands Simon his jacket wordlessly. But as Simon shrugs it on, he feels the need to say something. Anything.

“I--” he starts, and Simon’s eyes flicker up to meet his, waiting.

“Thank you,” he finishes, quietly. It’s not enough, it’s not near enough, to encompass all of what Kieren should say. What he needs to say. But it’s all he can manage for now.

Simon gives a brief nod and and says a quiet, “It’s okay,” as he stands.

For a moment, Simon pulls himself to his full height as he gets down off the exam table, and Kieren is a little surprised at how their normally miniscule height discrepancy shifts into something larger. But then, Simon’s shoulders become more rounded and he hunches back down, like he’s trying to make himself smaller. There’s a phantom pain in Kieren’s chest as he wonders what in Simon’s life has made him feel the need to shrink in on himself.

He reaches out and twines his fingers through Simon’s as they head for the door.

“Simon, a moment, please?” Doctor Russo asks before they can leave.

Simon’s jaw twitches, but he looks resigned, as if he was expecting it, and he squeezes Kieren’s hand once before turning back and crossing the room to speak with the doctor.

It’s all hushed tones, Doctor Russo speaking and Simon giving jerky nods, and Kieren can once again feel the tension rising in the room. But then Russo says something and Simon’s head snaps up. There’s silence, a few more whispered words before Simon thanks him and walks back to Kieren.

Simon looks stricken, but he gives Kieren a wan smile before hesitantly reaching out and taking his hand. Whatever it is, they’ve already been through worse, he thinks. It can wait.

* * *

The next few days wear on Simon. He helps Kieren prepare for Amy’s funeral, doing what they can to fulfill every one of her last wishes, but all the while there’s a voice that hisses in the back of his brain, “ _Traitor._ ”

Sometimes it sounds like the Prophet or Julian.

Sometimes it sounds like Kieren.

He does his best to avoid anything more than the most necessary of conversations. He avoids putting himself in situations where he knows he and Kieren will be alone, situations that might provide an opportunity for Kieren to sully his hands by touching someone as unclean as Simon. With everything else going on, Kieren doesn’t seem to notice, and for that Simon is grateful.

He almost breaks when Kieren stands next to him as they watch Amy’s coffin being lowered into the ground, desperate for the physical comfort that he doesn’t deserve. But the thought of Amy’s death resting on his shoulders stays his hand.

He does break later, when he asks Kieren to go away with him.

It’s not safe for either of them anymore. Simon may not have given any names, but it won’t be hard for someone to figure out, and Simon is sure the ULA will be sending that _someone_ shortly. Kieren refuses, of course, because he’s not a coward, he’s never been a coward, despite what Simon may have said about running away when they first met. And if Kieren won’t go, then neither will he.

He returns to the bungalow that night, knowing he can’t wait much longer. _(Their_ bungalow, he thinks briefly. Amy had left explicit instructions, leaving it to both Simon and Kieren in her will. Even going so far as to call them ‘lovebirds.’ Simon hadn’t even realized she knew. In nicer terms, she warned them not to fuck it up. Simon doesn’t know if she meant the house or the relationship.)

It’s festering in his mind, what he’s done. Amy’s blood bright red on his hands. He knows that the longer he waits, the more painful it will be not just for him but for Kieren as well. Kieren who thinks Simon saved his life, Kieren who’s finally starting to trust Simon with something more valuable than his life.

He can’t wait much longer.

Simon holes himself in the bungalow the day after Amy’s funeral. He works on setting his mind straight, planning his words to Kieren in his head. He paces around the rooms, giving the door to Amy’s bedroom a wide berth, running through the best ways to present everything, ways to soften the blow… It’s around ten at night when he realizes Kieren will see straight through his bullshit, and that there’s nothing that could possibly make any of this worse except for a planned speech. If there’s any hope for Simon, he’s going to have to do this from the heart.

He glances at the late hour on the clock and only feels a sliver of guilt (just another drop in the bucket) when he rings the Walkers’s house.

Kieren answers with a whispered greeting and Simon wonders if he hasn’t caught them all in bed. Then he hears the sound of an explosion and Steve commenting on how incredible the details look, and he holds back a small smile. The feeling dies once he remembers why he’s calling.

“Can you come over?” Simon asks.

“You could come over here, you know,” Kieren says. “Mum and Dad wouldn’t mind. They’d probably feel better knowing you weren’t alone.”

There’s a phantom pain in his chest at Kieren’s words. “I’d rather--” he’s unable to say the rest of the sentence. He’d rather not have an audience, he’d rather not have to tell Kieren all of his dirty little secrets, he’d rather not shatter Kieren’s trust in him.

“Simon? What’s wrong?”

Kieren steps into another room, the background noise fading away. He must sense Simon’s dismay.

“Kieren. Please.” It’s all he can say.

Kieren doesn’t even hesitate. “I’ll be right there.”

* * *

Simon is pacing the living room, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, when Kieren walks in.

“Simon?” He calls out as he opens the door, a little out of breath. Simon guesses he probably ran over.

Kieren spots Simon, now frozen in the middle of the room. Before Simon can respond, Kieren walks up to him, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at him with concern.

“You alright?” He asks.

Simon doesn’t know how to answer, but when Kieren’s hand reaches out to touch him, he takes a step back and does his best to ignore the hurt that flashes over Kieren’s face.

There’s bound to be more where that came from, anyway.

“We need to talk,” Simon says instead. He gestures to the couch and winces when he realizes what that must look like. It’s been a long time since Simon has been anything other than a Disciple and what came before that was even worse. It’s going to take a while to break some of his habits.

“Already breaking up with me?” Kieren asks, attempting to lighten the mood. Like Simon would ever willingly leave Kieren.

“No, it’s not--there are some things I need to tell you,” Simon says. “Why I was in the city.”

Kieren looks at him for a moment before nodding and moving over to the couch and taking a seat. Simon moves to sit next to him out of habit, before realizing it might be better for the both of them to have space. He takes the chair instead and takes a deep breath.

“The Undead Prophet,” he begins and sees Kieren roll his eyes. Simon knows it will only get worse from here. He pauses and thinks of another strategy.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he says instead.

“No shit,” Kieren says lightly, real discontent beneath the facade.

Simon feels it again, he feels the words bubbling inside of him, threatening to escape. It’s the same feeling that made him get a little too personal at the fence when he barely knew Kieren. But when Simon looks at him, the urge to bare his soul is so strong it’s frightening.

He considers the best way to approach this. He doesn’t want to make excuses, he doesn’t want to pretend he wasn’t in charge of his own actions. He was dumb enough to fall hook, line, and sinker for what the Prophet spouted, and he’ll face the consequences, whatever they might be. But Kieren deserves to know everything.

So he starts from the beginning.

He tells Kieren about his life growing up. About the clawing desperation he felt, about the empty pit in the center of him, about his parents who tried so hard… and how it was never enough for Simon. He tells Kieren about the drugs, about cold nights spent on the street and even colder nights spent in a stranger’s bed.

The story of his death is a mere footnote to what he’s saying, yet another junkie found in an alley, dead of an “accidental” overdose. It’s so unremarkable and insignificant he almost doesn’t mention it. When he does, though, he can see the sympathy in Kieren’s eyes--he’ll never be able to comprehend the depths of Kieren’s compassion.

He takes a deep breath before he tells Kieren of his rising. It’s all second hand information, Simon doesn’t actually remember the dirt under his fingers, he doesn’t remember breaking through the surface, and he’s so grateful he doesn’t remember going home. He knows he did, though, he knows what he’s done, so he tells Kieren all the same.

Kieren shifts on the couch, as if to stand and offer Simon physical comfort, but Simon shakes his head and moves on to the next piece of his illustrious history. The treatment center. It’s here where Simon can’t take the stillness in the room. He stands up and paces as he speaks.

He talks about the experiments, the broken promises. He talks about the feeling of helplessness being strapped to the table, unable to move. He tells Kieren of the Undead Prophet’s first visit and then the second.

Then comes the ill-fated reunion with his dad, followed by more lonely nights on the street. The only difference is that this time he can’t actually feel the cold.

Finally, there’s the warmth and acceptance of the ULA.

By the time he gets to their arrival at Roarton, Simon can barely look Kieren in the eyes.

“Simon--” Kieren starts.

“I didn’t know what they wanted,” Simon says, ignoring him. “I was told to come to Roarton, to find the first risen. I thought I was meant to recruit them. I thought--I thought they’d hold a special place in our ranks, I didn’t know--”

He looks at Kieren full on. “I swear I didn’t know.”

Kieren looks confused but as the seconds tick by, he looks afraid. As if he doesn’t want to hear what’s next. But still he asks.

“What did they want?”

“I went to the city and met with Julian,” Simon says. “He gave me a message from the Undead Prophet. A message that I was to sacrifice to the first risen on the twelfth hour of the twelfth day of the twelfth month.”

Anger flashes over Kieren’s face as he takes in what Simon means. To Simon, it feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. It’s a good thing he doesn’t need to breathe, at least.

“They wanted you to kill the first risen,” Kieren says. It’s not a question.

Simon nods.

“You know how stupid that sounds, right? Jesus, Simon.”

Simon doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing. Kieren is silent for a moment longer as he thinks.

“The twelfth day. The day at the cemetery,” Kieren trails off, dawning realization in his tone. “You and Maxine are two peas in a pod, aren’t you?”

Simon knows Kieren is angry, rightfully so, he knows he’s lashing out and Simon does his best not to be stung by the words. It doesn’t work. Kieren looks up at the ceiling, jaw stiff. He looks back at Simon quite suddenly, as if struck by something.

“Maxine thought Amy was the first risen, but you weren’t looking for Amy that day. If you had been, you wouldn’t have seen us--”

Simon bows his head, unable to meet Kieren’s eyes.

“Simon, who were you looking for? Who were you supposed to sacrifice for your fucking cult?”

Simon is silent. It’s strange, he thinks, knowing how life altering the moment you’re about to enter will be. He cherishes these last few seconds before he has to tell Kieren just how deep the betrayal goes.

“That Sunday with your parents,” Simon starts. “What you told Gary. You said you were alone, the graves around you were undisturbed.”

Comprehension dawns on Kieren’s face. Followed by incredulity, hurt, and anger.

“You told them I was the first,” he states. “You were supposed to kill me. That’s why you were in the graveyard. You were supposed to sacrifice me for your precious second rising.” He sneers the last few words.

Simon’s silence is his confession.

Kieren stands up and walks to the doorway but halts and turns back.

“So you decided not to _kill_ me because what? You--you thought you could get off with me?” Kieren’s voice is rising in the quiet house. His movements are sharp and jerky, like he can’t quite figure out what to do with the anger that’s flooding his body.

“No, Kieren,” he says quietly.

“Then _what_ , Simon?”

“You already know the answer. I told you days ago, before I knew you were the first.”

Kieren’s eyebrows crease and he shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”

“I-“ Simon starts again, but it’s too soon. It’s too soon to finish that sentence with the words that threaten to break free of his chest, and he clamps his jaw shut to keep them buried. A moment passes before he speaks again.

“Because what I believe doesn’t seem to matter when it comes to you.”

Silence. And then--

“What if it had been Amy?” Kieren asks, almost defeated. “What if it had been Zoe or Brian or Freddie or, god, anyone else but me? Would you have killed them?”

Simon wants to think himself a better person. He wants to think that he would have come to his senses even had the first been a stranger to him. But there was a moment earlier that very week where he had been willing, had been _planning_ , on killing this beautiful boy in front of him. His eyes drop to the floor.

“I wish I could tell you,” he admits. “I wish I could say no, Kieren. But the truth is… I don’t know.”

“Jesus Christ, Simon.”

There’s nothing left for him to say. Kieren has all the facts now, he knows everything that Simon knows and what he doesn’t know, Simon is willing to tell him. The oppressive guilt that had felt like it was trying to push him back into the ground doesn’t lift. It simply shifts into a mangled knot of other emotions that he doesn’t have the strength to sort through.

“I can’t--” Kieren starts and then shakes his head. “I can’t deal with this right now. I--I have to leave.”

Simon notes that Kieren doesn’t give a hint as to whether or not he’s planning on coming back. He had prepared for this but it doesn’t make it sting any less. He nods.

Kieren walks to the door, but as he brushes past, Simon reaches out and grabs his wrist.

“Kieren.”

“ _What_.” Kieren shakes off Simon’s hand.

“The Undead Prophet, the ULA. They know I found the first. They know I betrayed them. I didn’t tell them who you were, but it won’t be hard for them to figure out. And they’re not going to just let this go,” he says, stressing the last point.

“And.” Kieren doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand how much danger he’s in.

“You need to be careful. I don’t know what they’ll do but-- be careful, okay?”

Kieren narrows his eyes and stares at him for a long moment before nodding. As he opens the door, he stops again and spares one last glance at Simon. His voice is softer when he speaks this time.

“You be careful too, alright?” he says.

Simon nods.

The door shuts behind Kieren with finality.

* * *

Kieren is a mess of emotions and he's not sure which one should take the forefront. Anger, exhaustion, disbelief, hurt, they’re all in there somewhere. Simon had been planning on killing him. How does anyone react to that?

It’s late enough that it’s early, and by the look his mum gave him when he said he was going to Simon’s, he knows they won't be expecting him home for awhile yet. All the better, then. He’s not ready to face them or their questions. He almost laughs to himself, thinking of how he would tell them that Simon was going to kill him…

Right before he saved his life.

Took a bullet for him, in fact. The proof will remain in Simon’s shoulder forever.

But how does he come to terms with that? Does saving his life override the fact that Simon was going to kill him originally?

And despite any flowery language, how was Kieren to know that Simon wasn’t just trading one obsessive devotion for the other? From the ULA to him? The way Simon described it, his life was a _parade_ of obsessions, from one to the next. And none of them had turned out particularly well for anyone involved.

And god, what Simon has been through… as much as Kieren hates to admit it to himself, he can almost understand why Simon would be swept up into shit like that. Kieren feels a spark of guilt, having walked out on Simon like so many had before. It’s only a spark before he gets angry at himself because it’s not fair to _him_ either. Simon isn’t the only one with shit to deal with right now and Kieren more than deserves the chance to figure his own out.

His thoughts go on like this for awhile, a feedback loop of anger and guilt. Guilt for leaving, angry for feeling guilty because this was all Simon's doing, not his, and then straight back to guilt. Around and around he goes until finally he realizes where his feet have taken him.

He looks at the open, gaping maw of the cave and without thinking, ducks inside.

When he’s settled, he looks at the messily scrawled graffiti on the wall and feels himself relax.

* * *

He’s mostly moved on, he thinks. Not that he’ll ever forget Rick or what they meant to each other… but some part of him (the Amy part, he thinks) knows that he’s been given an opportunity, here. A second chance. He doesn’t want to waste it like he did the first, pining away until there’s virtually nothing left of himself. Rick will always have that small, special place in his heart, but he’s no longer the all-consuming thought that he once was to Kieren. And Kieren’s grateful for that, he knows that it’s what both Rick and Amy would want for him.

He misses Rick, but he also knows what they had was unhealthy. It was neither of their faults, really. Kieren can’t find it in him to blame Rick for any of it, but he knows that being someone’s dirty little secret would have ruined him all the same. The thrill of this cave, the thrill of late nights sneaking out of houses and getting drunk with his best mate would have grown old. It would have grown malignant and spread resentment through both of them until they were merely ruins of the people they once were.

Kieren sighs and lets his head drop back to rest against the rock. He realizes then, that what he and Simon have isn’t the poster child for health either. Simon’s blind faith, his unwavering belief in _Kieren,_ is dangerous in its own right.

Simon has changed Kieren for the better, too. A dramatic shift condensed in a short span of time that sent a quake throughout Kieren’s entire existence.

The night at the Legion, all it had taken was a lifted eyebrow and knowing look from Simon, and Kieren felt something in himself snap at Gary’s words. For all that his delivery was wrapped up in bullshit, Simon was right about some things. And there is something about the way he looks at Kieren that makes him feel like maybe he has just as much of a right to inhabit this town as anyone else.

And that was just after their _first_ meeting. Barely over a week ago.

Kieren rubs his face with his hands. He can’t deny the pull that he feels to Simon, the desire to be around him, to talk to him all hours of the day. At times it feels like a schoolboy crush, innocent and new. Other times it feels like something deeper and far more terrifying.

Despite what Simon may think, whatever impression that Kieren might have given him, he doesn’t think Simon could be a murderer. Even with the promise of a second rising, Kieren doesn’t believe Simon would have gone through with the sacrifice, plunging a knife into another ‘living’ being, no matter who it may have been.

But while his own moral compass may have prevented him from committing murder, Kieren knows that Simon turned his back on the ULA entirely for him. He knows that he was the catalyst that opened Simon’s eyes. They have both upended each other’s lives in irreversible ways.

It’s entirely possible they could be good for one another, together, Kieren thinks. But they’d both have to work at it.

Deep down, Kieren already knows his decision has been made, but he tells himself he’ll give it a couple of days before making his next move. The dust needs to settle and Kieren needs to straighten out all the thoughts going through his head. He wants to make sure he’s making the right choice.

He’s already pretty sure he is.

* * *

It’s three days before he feels up to the task. Three days of concerned looks from his parents and whispered conversations that stop as soon as he enters the room.

Jem’s not so shy. On the second day she asks, “Where’s your boyfriend at, dickhead? Thought you’d be attached at the lips, new love and all that.”

Kieren shrugs and says they needed some time apart after everything that’s happened, emotions were running too high. He tosses in something about wanting to spend some time with his family. Jem laughs and gives him a doubtful look but doesn’t push the issue.

On the third day, he wakes up ready. He puts on some of his nicer clothes and spends a little too long staring at himself in the mirror. It’s a far cry from when he couldn’t bare to catch a glimpse of himself. He can just imagine what Amy would be saying to him, if she could see, no doubt with a huge smirk on her face.

Once decent, he heads down the stairs, Jem shooting him a knowing look as they pass in the hallway. He shouts a quick goodbye to his parents and heads out the door for the bungalow.

He tries not to acknowledge the phantom butterflies in his stomach.

* * *

The knock at the door stops Simon where he stands. For a second he imagines that it’s time, that the ULA has finally come for him. But they wouldn’t knock and, running through the list of people who would come to see him, Simon comes up with very few that wouldn’t just barrel in to kill him. One, in fact. And that person might be more frightening than all the rest.

He’s half-tempted to pretend he isn’t here, to delay the inevitable another day, but his desire to see Kieren wins out. He goes to the door, runs his hands over his hair, and steels himself for what’s about to happen.

A turn of the handle later and he’s looking down into Kieren’s beautiful eyes. He savors the moment before stepping aside in silent invitation. Kieren walks past him into the living room, Simon following after him.

“Look, Simon,” Kieren says, turning around to face him.

Simon bows his head, already thinking of ways to keep Kieren safe even if Kieren wants nothing to do with him. He can deal with Kieren not wanting him, but Simon will not leave him alone to face whatever the ULA has planned. He will not leave Kieren unprotected.

“We’ve done this all wrong,” Kieren continues. It’s not what Simon was expecting.

Simon tilts his head in confusion and Kieren gestures between them. “This. Us,” Kieren says.

Simon waits for the other shoe to drop but Kieren, as always, surprises him.

“We haven’t even gone on a date, you know?” Kieren says.

This brings Simon up short. He can’t reconcile what Kieren is saying with the situation at hand.

“A date,” Simon replies, utterly at sea.

“I kissed you and I barely even knew your last name,” Kieren says.

Simon tries hard not to think of the bed partners he’s had where he never even learned their first names.

“We’ve been--so much has happened. And we can’t erase any of that, but if we want this relationship to work we need to--I don’t know. Reset. Start over.”

Simon’s heart would be in his throat were it possible. Kieren isn’t saying he never wants to see Simon again, he’s saying the exact opposite. He’s actually saying he wants to give them another try. And, God help him, Simon would do anything to get a second chance at it.

“So,” Simon says. “You want to go out.”

“On a date.”

“Right. A date,” Simon agrees, still in a bit of a daze.

Kieren looks at him with a fair amount of scrutiny before he says. “But I want to set some ground rules first.”

Simon’s eyebrows go up.

“I want this to work, Simon. I do,” Kieren says with startling honesty. “But it can’t work if you’ve got me up on some weird pedestal. I’m not the chosen one. I’m not special. I’m just… I’m just me. And you need to be in this for _me,_ not because you think I’m some kind of messiah.”

“Okay,” Simon says, a bit too quickly.

Kieren sighs. “I’m serious--”

Simon interrupts him. “So am I. You might--I might need a little time. And your patience. But I want to try.”

Simon is afraid of how much he wants to try.

Kieren watches him for a moment before a small smile settles on his lips. “Okay,” he says.

“Okay,” Simon replies, smiling back at him. A thought strikes him, his eyebrows furrow. “We can’t exactly go down to the pub for a pint. Or grab dinner--”

“We’ll have to come up with something else. I’m sure we can think of something,” Kieren says.

“If Amy were here--” Simon starts.

“Yeah,” Kieren smiles sadly. “I know.”

They lapses into silence, remembering.

Kieren is the one to break it. “Tell you what,” he says. “Pick me up at eight on Friday. I’ll take care of it.”

“Yeah?” Simon says.

“Yeah,” Kieren replies.

Kieren doesn’t stick around much longer after the date is set, only enough to see that Simon is doing well, all things considered. As he goes to leave, Simon follows him to the door. Kieren reiterates the date once more but stops short. He turns back around and looks at Simon before seemingly coming to a decision. He steps in close, and quickly stands on his toes to give Simon a quick peck on the cheek. Kieren smiles as he steps back and walks out the door with a ‘see you Friday,’ closing it behind him.

It takes a minute for Simon to realize he’s pressing his fingers to the spot where Kieren’s lips had landed, wishing he could feel more than phantom warmth.

* * *

Somehow the week passes by all too quickly and yet torturously slow at the same time. Simon can just imagine the looks Amy would be giving him, if she were there. No doubt, she’d laugh at the way he frets about the house, nervous as a schoolboy.

The night of, she’d probably have herself in stitches watching him as he tries on all the clothes he owns, until he finally settles on something he deems passable. He finds himself cracking a smile or two at the absurdity of the whole thing, truth be told.

He knocks on Kieren’s door, a little surprised at the fluttering going on in his stomach. It only gets worse when the door opens and Kieren’s standing there with a knowing smile on his face.

“Hey,” Kieren says.

“Hi,” Simon says in response, unsure of what else to say.

It’s definitely a little awkward, all things considered, and they lapse into a silence that’s quickly broken by Kieren’s laugh.

Simon smiles.

“You ready?” Kieren asks.

“Yes.”

Kieren opens his mouth to say something else when Simon sees Jem stick her head out onto the porch.

“Be safe, boys! Don’t stay out too late!” she says in her best impression of their mother and Kieren rolls his eyes.

“Goodnight, _Jem_ ,” Kieren says.

“Night, dickhead!” Jem replies before retreating back into the house and shutting the door.

Kieren looks at Simon. “Come on, we’re going to be late,” he says, passing by him.

“Late?” Simon asks, catching up to Kieren.

“You were right, there are some pretty obvious things out of the question for us, but there’s one thing that isn’t,” Kieren says, looking at him.

“What’s that?” Simon asks.

“A movie,” Kieren says, looking down between them as they walk. Simon’s eyes follow his and he watches as Kieren twines their fingers together.

The warmth Simon feels in his hand might be a figment of his imagination, but the warmth in his chest is anything but.

* * *

There’s no rhyme or reason for the movie they go to. Kieren simply chooses it because of the appeal of doing something so utterly normal for a date. Unfortunately, Roarton’s theater doesn’t offer many options, leaving Kieren to pick one of the two at random.

It isn’t terrible, though, which is more than he could have hoped for, but the idle chatter that he and Simon keep up as they walk hand in hand down the street afterwards fills him with hope.

They go back and forth, sharing their opinions on the plot and talking about where they had seen one of the actors before. It leads Simon into telling a story about how his father would take him to the arthouse cinema to see independent movies when he was a kid. He smiles as he follows it up with how his mother would sometimes sneak him out of the house to see an action flick with her. When they got back, his dad would ask how the park was with a smile, all while brushing off stray bits of popcorn from the front of Simon’s shirt.

By the time Simon finishes his story and his face clears of its fond sadness, they’ve reached the edges of town.

Simons stops short, as if just realizing he doesn’t know where they are going.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t--did you have something planned?”

“No,” Kieren says. “Just this.”

Simon tilts his head, confused. “This?”

“Getting to know each other,” Kieren says, holding back a smile. “ _Actually_ getting to know each other. I don’t care how we do it… but I’m not going to complain about this.” Kieren looks up at the night sky. A moonlit walk is definitely not the worst of ideas.

Simon follows his gaze and looks up at the stars with a serene little smile. Kieren thinks that this is the happiest he’s felt since he rose.

They continue on their walk, aimlessly moving in whatever direction strikes them. Sometimes they move in silence, other times they trade stories. They talk about what they were like before, how Kieren had wanted to travel to Paris and go to art school, and how Simon once wanted to be a poet before he realized he couldn’t write worth a lick. They keep the topics mostly happy in nature, Kieren wanting to savor the lightness he feels in his chest. He imagines Simon is thinking much the same thing.

By the time they make a mutual decision to turn around and head back to the town, it’s late enough that the streets are empty. All the same, they walk through the fields and out of sight, not wanting to risk any unwanted encounter.

They pass by a house with a single light on, shining through the open window. There’s music floating past the curtains, a slow and soft song that’s unfamiliar to Kieren. Simon stops walking, closing his eyes for a brief moment as sadness darkens his face. The expression is gone so quickly, though, that Kieren isn’t sure he actually saw it.

Simon opens his eyes but doesn’t look at Kieren. He looks at the stars as he speaks instead.

“When I was a boy, my mum used to put me on her feet while she and my dad listened to some of his old records,” his Irish lilt is more pronounced when he talks about his past, Kieren has noticed. “This was one of them.”

Kieren’s not sure what to say, he just squeezes Simon’s hand a little tight.

“Kieren?” Simon asks.

“Yeah?”

Simon turns to him, a shy smile on his lips. “Would you like to dance?”

Neither of them end up being very good, their dancing mostly consists of them leaning into each other and swaying back and forth. Kieren smiles to himself as Simon wraps his arms around Kieren’s waists and leans in, resting his forehead against Kieren’s.

When the song is over, they stop swaying but don’t let go. They stand still, wrapped in each other’s arms, until Simon lifts his head and looks at Kieren with that same little crooked smile on his face. Kieren can’t help himself, he moves his hand from Simon’s shoulder to the back of his neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

It’s sweet and tender, softer than their first kiss but more meaningful than their second. They kiss under the starlight without a goal in mind and when they break apart, they share a smile.

“I should probably get you home. Wouldn’t want Jem to worry,” he says. Kieren laughs.

Simon cups his cheek, a trembling thumb gently stroking his cheekbone, before he steps back and takes Kieren’s hand in his again. They walk back to Kieren’s house in silence, both of them occasionally darting glances at the other, smiling when they’re caught out.

When the house is in sight, Kieren looks back up into the night sky and thinks maybe things will be okay.

* * *

Simon stops looking at Kieren like the messiah, like Kieren’s the answer to all of his doubts. But Simon will never believe that Kieren isn’t special. In Kieren he sees everything that is good and hopeful about their second lives. And it has nothing to do with the first risen and it’s not because Simon thinks Kieren is fated for something more.

It’s simply because of who Kieren is.

And, as it turns out, Simon loves him for it all the more.


End file.
